


True Holidays

by WillowMadison



Category: Original Work
Genre: Butt Slapping, Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, Dominant Husband, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Married Couple, Misogyny, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Possessive Behavior, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stepford Wife, Total Power Exchange, submissive wife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28173675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowMadison/pseuds/WillowMadison
Summary: Lucy is well on her way to being a submissive little housewife for Max, but she has had some hiccups along the way. No worries. Max knows just how to set her straight.This is a True Series Novella. Includes (previously unpublished) scenes that take place between the end of True Choices (book 3) and the beginning of the alternative endings of True Control (books 4.1 and 4.2). The timeframe for this novella is the holidays—Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's.However, it's not necessary to have read any of the True Series books in order to enjoy this novella.This series involves a combination of Domestic Discipline, D/s, and S/m. There is punishment and discipline. It is harsh and could be seen as cruel.
Relationships: Lucy Shannon, Max Traeger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**HER**

With a jostling of the mattress, I roll over into the spot Max just vacated, snuggling into the warmed sheets. I’m nervous about today and will take every opportunity to delay the inevitable start to it. But the sound of the shower going on filters through the slightly open bathroom door. The pull to join Max trumps my hesitations. _I’ll worry more after I’ve been all soapy with my husband._ Giggling, I jump out of our bed.  
Except even this simple act brings me back to the reason I’m so anxious. Even though it’s a relief to be able to move around without a muscle-deep reminder of my monumental mess up from two weeks ago, a quick glance at my reflection in the dresser mirror reveals a hint of bruising left on my backside. I keep moving, avoiding a look at the mirrors in the bathroom.  
Max has his back to me, face up to the showerhead. His muscles stand out with the slick of water and suds. _Man is built like a statue._ Steam nearly suffocates me as I creep in behind him. Max heard the door open of course and doesn’t flinch when I snake my arms around his waist, pillowing my tits against his hard back.  
Holding my hands to keep them in place, Max twists around to face me, folding me in his strong embrace. I press a kiss to his chest, catching a few water droplets with my tongue. He moans, “Baby, you keep doing that and I’ll be late.”  
“Can’t have that.” I smile, hiding it with another kiss, raking his back lightly with my nails.  
As he pinches my butt cheek, I squeal. It turns into a moan when his other hand slides between my thighs. I’m wet from more than the shower. Humping air, trying to get his finger to move to where I want it, I stiffen with shame when Max grabs hold of my shoulders, stopping me. He pushes me against the warmed tiles, and I arch to meet the front of his body.  
His voice dips down into the cold, controlling tone I’ve become more than familiar with over the last two weeks. “Who does your body belong to, Lucy?”  
“You, Sir.” I quickly get into a position that reiterates this more than words alone can convey. My legs part, hands behind my back, stance straight, waiting for his command. I want to sob for the need aching my body, but I gulp in steamed breaths instead.  
“That’s right. And who decides when your greedy pussy gets what it wants?” Oh, how his words flame my unquenchable desire and abject humiliation. The teasing tilt to his tone doesn’t help either. _Max knows exactly what he’s doing to me! Evil man…_  
“You, Sir.” I’m past a point of worrying that I sound too eager, too crazed with need. I’ve been denied a climax for almost two weeks, teased to nearly incomprehensible cruelty, and I no longer care that I drool at the sight or thought of him.  
Almost casually, Max commands, “Bend over the bench.”  
I position myself immediately. The edges of the tiles dig into my hands, and I try to ignore how high I’ve lifted my butt into the air, an unspoken attempt to tempt him. Max grabs my hips, holding me firmly in the obscene pose, taking full advantage of it to rub his hard cock between the valley created by my butt cheeks. “You are so beautiful like this, little girl.” I flush hotter with his praise, forcing myself to stand still.  
Teasingly, he rubs his erection up and down the divide of my cheeks. “How can I deny you when you’re such a good girl, offering your sweet ass up for me like this?”  
Whimpering, fear wraps around my stomach. I tremble in his grip. Our honeymoon looms large in my memory and I press my lips together to stop from begging him not to take me that way again. It’s been a regular fear of mine with the sexual torture over the last two weeks. _I ache with a longing and that would be…beyond cruel even for Max._  
“Tell me where you want me, Lucy.” There’s an edge of warning to his voice. I stifle a cry, one built from the denial he’s kept me in.  
“Sir…wherever you’d like.” I choke on the answer, hoping it’s enough, and knowing it’s true, too. I’d take Max however he’d take me. No matter the pain.  
He pats my butt, conciliatory. “Good answer.”  
A gasp escapes my lips—in fear, anticipation, disappointment…I’m not sure—as Max continues to rub the length of his hard cock along the dip between my cheeks. Water provides plenty of friction, but his warmth sears me with a yearning to feel him deep inside me. He steadily rocks himself against my raised flesh, squeezing my hips in a rhythmic jolt of pain and command to match his stride. I do, pushing up and down to elongate the strokes of him against me. My pussy weeps with the lack of attention, but I focus on the small moans Max gives me instead.  
He’s warmer than the shower water, and I groan with how this adds to the aching sensation of emptiness between my legs. Max is swelling, nearing his release, and I moan with a hope to have a taste of it—on me, in me, anywhere…just to be connected by it, in any way he’d grant.  
Max presses harder to my ass, sandwiching his cock between my cheeks and holding me firmly against him. A rough growl proceeds the spurt of his hot come all over my lower back. I’m moved with the small shudders of his climax and barely stop myself from crying out.  
With a hitch to his voice, Max strokes my back, soothing and wiping me clean. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”  
I want to deny the comfort this provides me. I want to say that the denial of my own release blossoms brighter than the need to please Max. Yet, I can’t. Every desire is attached to him, made more significant by him. And I can’t figure out a way to detach my body from his commands, especially not when he’s been denying me a climax for this long. Any touch of his is a pleasure, a gift I treasure, an agony of continued torment. _And nothing less than I deserve._  
Walking us out of the shower, Max wraps a fluffy towel around me before taking one for himself. I grab a smaller one to wrap my long hair up. Max chuckles, shaking his head at me as he wipes off the fog on the mirror. “You look like a q-tip.” I pout and he laughs harder, getting ready to shave, “A sexy q-tip.”  
“That’s better.” I sit up on the counter, taking my time applying lotion to my arms, but really just enjoying being able to watch him shave. The scent of the cream he uses is like everything else about him—clean, strong, perfect. I also enjoy how his eyes keep wandering to watch what I’m doing.  
I put a little more effort in with my legs—stretching one straight out at a time, pointing my toes, and running my hands up and down like I have all day to apply lotion. _Maybe I do. I don’t know what he has planned for me._  
Max finishes shaving, wiping off his chin and moving to stand in between my legs. He grabs the front of my towel, yanking it open and using the ends to scoot me closer to the edge, to him. Our lips meet for a deep kiss, but it’s sweet, gentle. And it stirs my desires to the point that I’m a desperate mess again, moaning and whimpering into his mouth. “Little girl, you know I have a meeting to get to…”  
I smile, all feigning innocence and fluttering lashes, failing with the press of his hardening cock. His towel in the way frustrates my already frustrated pussy, adding another whimper to my voice, “I wasn’t doing anything, just minding my own business.”  
He laughs hard at that, tweaking my nose with one finger. “You are just asking for trouble today.” I gulp with the reminder of what day it is.  
Two weeks ago, I’d earned the worst spanking of my life. _At least, I hope it was._ Max has kept me on tenterhooks ever since, jumping to comply to his every demand and whim, all while leaving me in this constant state of unfulfilled desire. _Today is supposed to be an end to all that. Or maybe not?_ He hasn’t said, and I’ve only been hoping…  
Max drags his finger down my front, between my tits, tickling my stomach before pushing right into my wet pussy. I groan and grind against him. Leaning back on the mirror, I give him greater access, spreading my legs more. He adds another finger, going slow and hitting all the spots that make me lose control every time. I let my eyes slowly close, slightly pumping my hips to his rhythm. The towel slips with me against the counter, but I know Max would never let me fall.  
“Please…” I breathe out a plea for his fingers to be sped up or replaced. With my lids only half open, I reach for the front of his towel, for the hard on tenting it.  
He withdraws his fingers, chuckling. My eyes pop open when he licks my juices off himself. We moan together—mine in frustration, his in appreciation. Grabbing my hands, Max presses them flat to the top of my thighs. Leaning forward, he kisses my cheeks, nose, forehead, whispering, “I want you wet like this all day for me, Lucy.” _So, the same as the last two weeks then…_  
I groan. “Please…”  
He’s without mercy, kissing my lips so lightly it almost tickles. “No. You’ll stay just like this until I get home. And no panties today. I want you bare to remind you of what’s missing…my fingers.” He squeezes my hands and I whimper. “My tongue.” He traces my lips with it and I moan. “My cock.” He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I gasp, sucking on it like I would his cock with my other lips. _If only he’d take off that towel!_  
I’m bereft when he pulls away, smiling down on me as though he’s given me a gift. I narrow my eyes and don’t even realize my fingers have inched closer to be between my legs until Max stops my progress with a hard squeeze to each wrist. “No touching what’s mine, little girl. You’ll wait…and want…all day.”  
Defeated, I take a shaky breath in. “Yes, Sir.”  
Max tilts my chin up, kissing me. “That’s my good girl.” It’s not quite as good as I was hoping to get, but his praise runs through me. I let it warm my belly.  
With a light smack to my hip, “Now I really am going to be late. Make breakfast, baby.”  
I scooch off the counter, wrapping the towel again, but squeak when Max rips it away from me. He winks at my shock. “I want a nice view with my eggs this morning.”  
I take the towel off my head, hanging it up and slowly walking away, aware his eyes are following me. I smile as I head to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome!
> 
> I'm going to continue working on this Novella and will publish the chapters here as I get to them. If you are interested in reading more from this series, the completed books are available on Amazon and Smashwords. I'm also willing to email the first book (True Nature) to anyone who reaches out to me via my website email: willow@willowmadisonbooks.com. Alternatively ('cuz I do like alternative choices ;), you can sign up to be included in my update emails on my website; just mention AO3 on the form and your interest in receiving the freebie book. 
> 
> Happy reading! ~W


	2. Chapter 2

**Her**

In our foyer, I’m nervous again. Max is dressed in a dark charcoal suit; I’m still nude. The cold from the tiled floor seeps up, and I fight a shiver. Picking up his briefcase from the entry table, he turns to hand me a new phone out of it. I swallow hard. My nerves jump over each other, and my outstretched palm shakes a little. His gaze takes on a meaningful warning; my new cell acts as an exclamation point he hovers over my hand. “Same rules apply as before—I call, I text, I expect an immediate response.”  
“Yes, Sir.” I’m proud that I can speak without a squeak; the air in my lungs feels too light.  
“I’ve programmed all the contacts you’ll need. For now, calls to numbers not on that list won’t go through….and it’s set to block all unknown incoming calls.”  
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my cheeks and chest flaming red in the hallway mirror. The implied message hangs between us—I’m still on probation as far as Max is concerned. His trust is something I’ll have to re-earn, along with any additional privileges of freedom, or release. It’s been two weeks of no calls, no visitors, no outside contact at all. _Well…one._ But I blink away the thought before it can betray me.  
“I understand, Max.” I try to soften my voice, to keep my fear out of it. I’m terrified of messing this up. _Well, Max has made that part easier for me. Tracy is most definitely not going to be on my list of approved contacts anymore. After her involvement with inviting Rich to that dinner, I can’t say I blame him._  
“I hope you do, Lucy.” He leans forward to kiss my cheek, warming my ear with his dark promise. “I’ll be home for lunch.”  
He straightens up, and my breath catches with the sinister twist to his grin. His eyes drag toward the entry table and standing mirror behind it. With his hands on my shoulders, he positions me in front of it, my back warming with the press of his suit as he bends me forward to place my palms flat to the tabletop, eyes glued to his in our reflections. “Spread your legs.” I do, instantly, almost hopping in place. His grin brightens, but the menacing glint doesn’t disappear. “I want you just like this when I walk in that door.”  
Swallowing down my lust and anticipation, I nod. “Yes, Sir.”  
“And, baby.” Max moves one hand off my shoulder, running it down the length of my front to cup between my legs. “I want you dripping wet for me…but no touching, little girl…just imagine my hands on you.” I can only nod in agreement. He chuckles, leaving one soft kiss on my bare shoulder before smacking my ass and walking out.  
I stay in place for a minute, staring at myself in the mirror, feeling a little too shaky to move. I knew today was going to be a challenge. Max hasn’t hardly let me breathe without his permission for two weeks straight. Today is hopefully the end to my continued torture, but I have no idea what he has in store…  
For the first week, he went easy on me, physically at least. I was too sore and stiff to do much more than write out his rules, daily, pages and pages of so many repeated lines, I had thought my eyes would bleed ink by day two. But then the second week had been harder. The lash marks had healed somewhat and I had feared he’d keep to his maintenance rule of another spanking as a reminder. _I might have been better off._  
Instead of using his belt as usual to punish me a week after an infraction, though, Max had woken me up at midnight last Wednesday. With my eyes barely open, he’d cut through me with a single command—to remove myself to the guest room. I’d been confused at first, thinking he meant to punish me there as some new setup. Except he’d followed me into the room and nothing had been changed. The bed was made, the curtains open to a glittering city view, the inviting atmosphere undisturbed in the dark. Max had made it clear none of that was for my comfort or use, though.  
For twenty-four hours, my punishment had been to sleep flat on my back on the carpeted floor during the night, to stand or kneel in the empty, windowless corner during the day, and to limit my use of the bathroom for release or a drink of water to only four times unless an emergency. And I hadn’t been allowed to make a sound.  
Obeying, I’d listened to Max leaving me alone in the room, to the quiet closing of our bedroom door, to his waking and morning routine later, to his leaving our home, to the daytime sounds of our building that I’d never noticed before, to his return and nighttime routine, to the quiet closing of our bedroom door again. All a hell I’d had to live through, silently, a not so subtle reminder to the time I’d spent the night in our closet for my disobedience before.  
Looking at my reflection in the hallway mirror, I steel myself against the panic threatening to take over. _Max won’t put me in there again. He knows how difficult that was for me._  
It hadn’t been the hard floor that broke me. Or my stomach growling with nothing to sate it but glasses of water. Or the nagging awareness of my body as a sole distraction. No, it had been the quiet, the isolation…that alone had been enough to crack through the pain, the fear. The not knowing. Max hadn’t said how long I was to stay in that room, like that, how long the maintenance reminder was going to last. The door hadn’t been locked, I had known that much, but it might as well have been for all that I would’ve gone near it. But the isolation had been endless…  
I had stayed in the corner or on the floor, conservatively judging the breaks my body had needed, but I had stayed. And thought. All my thoughts had gone in the same direction—to Max, as he’d intended. The ache of missing him, of being a part of his morning and evening routines, of sleeping next to him, of hearing his voice, feeling his touch…it had all been perfect torture to highlight just what my life would be without him. Empty, lonely, as pointless as staring at a corner all day, with the world going on around me. And that was what broke me, silently racking my body with dry sobs. The isolation from him—it was too much to bear.  
That’s what I’d told him too, when he’d finally come for me at midnight again. I hadn’t been asleep, but the click of the door opening had startled a gasp from me. As had his naked form coming through that door to descend between my quickly spread legs. He’d entered me without any words, and it had been agony to not beg or question. Silently, he’d picked me up and carried me to our room, still spearing me with his hardness.  
Only in our bed again, had he spoken to me. _And, oh, how I hated those words._ “Until I say, you’re not to come.” Seven words that have punished me for seven days. I don’t doubt the perfectionist in him had planned it that way, too. He’d been denying me a climax by leaving me alone to heal for the week prior, but this was so much worse. To feel him and be unable to come? How?  
It was torture, but I had managed to obey that night by imagining the dull corner. Max had helped too. With unerring accuracy, he’d known each time I was close to slipping and had backed off or issued a sharp reminder with a simple no. And he’s kept me primed ever since, taking his own pleasure yet giving me no end to the misery of wanting.  
One glance down between my open legs and the evidence of my need is obvious. There’s a throbbing sensation, a pulse of longing that hasn’t gone away. Finally, I straighten up, sighing. I’ll be back here soon enough, no use torturing myself. _Max will do plenty of that in a few hours…_  
Heading to our closet, I’m tempted to put on jogging pants and a sweatshirt. It’s the only bumming-around type of clothes I have, and I’m fairly certain Max’s to-do list won’t have anything on it that requires my leaving today. Still…he’d said bare. Would the pants be construed as cheating?  
I opt for a soft, sweatshirt-material maxi dress instead. I’ll be naked when he gets home, but I’ll leave it out in a conspicuous spot for him to see that I obeyed his order with this choice. Smiling to myself, I head to the dining table for my list. Again, this ratchets up my nervousness.  
For the past week, my usual chores had been modified to add to my sexual frustration. Scrubbing the bathroom, check, but with a small vibrating dildo self-inserted for the duration. Dusting the apartment, check, but dressed in only ridiculously high heels and glossy slut-red lipstick. Doing laundry, check, but with self-attached clothespins on my nipples while folding each load. Waxing the floors, check, but only after I’d taken a wooden ruler to my clit for a self-directed spanking. The list went on, each day a lesson in self-control. _No, Max’s control, and that meant no climax for me.  
Let’s see what fun he has planned for today…?_  
The list sits like an innocent piece of paper on the table. _At least there’s nothing else with it today. That’s…encouraging?_  
Scowling, I don’t pick it up, reading while leaning over. To my relief, there are no commands for anything to be inserted, pinched, worn, or spanked. It’s also light, with very little real chores to it. Still, I shake my head at my husband’s diabolical brain.  
The first item is succinct: _Nude, all day._  
_Looks like I won’t be needing this dress after all._ I lift it up and over my head, draping it on the back of the nearest dining chair.  
The next item has me glancing around for my new phone. I left it in the bedroom. Walking back with it in my tight grip, I take my time heading toward the foyer. My face is already flaming.  
The second to-do: _Call Laura._  
_Oh, if only it had stopped there. But no, that would never do for Max. The sadist!  
…Call Laura, on speaker. Stand in front of the hallway mirror, legs spread wide, chin up and eyes watching. For the duration of the call, touch yourself, everywhere except for nipples, pussy, and ass._  
With a quick wish for Laura to be in the shower or on the train or in some other way unable to hear her phone, I place my call. Swallowing hard, I shakily put the phone down on the entry table, getting into position as ringing echoes in the hallway.  
“You’ve reached the voicemail box of Laura Wright. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” Relief washes over me. I visibly relax in the mirror, a huge smile forming on my lips.  
_Hey, whatdoyaknow, wishes really can come true._ I leave a quick message, letting Laura know this is my new cell number. As an afterthought, I squeeze my shoulders as I’m finishing up. _That counts._  
When I hit end, a shiver courses through me. It wasn’t like Laura would’ve seen me or known what I was doing, but the thought of it alone was enough to make me want to take another shower. I’ve never been an exhibitionist or overly comfortable being overtly sexual. The perversion of a simple task like what Max commanded feels as though a giant spotlight has been placed on me, right between my thighs. The lesson is clear—I belong to Max no matter where I am or what I’m doing. _Diabolical sadist…_  
Unsteadily, I turn to head for the list again. And my heart sinks to my stomach with the chiming of my new phone. For one brief moment, I consider not turning around, ignoring it. _I could say I didn’t hear it, couldn’t I?_  
The answer is as swift as my answering the phone is. _There’s no getting out of this…I have to prove my trustworthiness again to Max. If this is what it takes..._  
“Hey, Laura.” I gulp, turning to the mirror and looking myself in the eye while dragging my hands through my drying hair. I want to bury my face in heated embarrassment instead. On her end, I can hear the sound of street noise and wind in the background.  
“Oh my gosh. It’s been forever! I didn’t recognize this number, so I let it go to voicemail. Sorry about that.” Laura barely pauses, and I move my hands to my neck, feeling my pulse. It’s racing. “How are you?” So much is asked with that simple question. I can read all of her concern in the strain to her voice. I soothe myself like Max would, with gentle strokes.  
Taking a deep breath, I watch my chest rise and shake a bit. My nipples harden, and I become painfully aware of the cool tiles again. “I’m good.” I close my eyes for a fraction longer than is necessary for a blink. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk.” I know from Max that Laura had called after the dinner, worried about me.  
“Oh, well…Max said you were…” Laura falters and I take in quick breaths, moving one hand at a time, across my upper chest, absently marveling at how silky my skin feels. “That you weren’t going to be taking any calls or visits for a while.”  
A nicely diplomatic way of putting it, so like Laura to be gentle with me. But I know what Max expects, and with her I have the courage to step out onto that ledge of uncomfortable honesty. It’s a start. With my hands going between the divide of my tits, lifting and separating them, I answer quietly. “Yeah. I’ve been grounded to the apartment for two weeks after what happened at Romona’s.”  
“Oh.” Silence hangs between us. I can’t tell if it’s that or how my fingers lightly tickle my stomach that has me more uneasy. “But…you’re okay?”  
Her understanding hits me like a wave, pushing me off balance. I hug my middle. “I am. Max and I…we’re stronger from this.” I am. Bending my knee and lifting it, I run my hands up both sides of my leg, smiling faintly. I look, and feel, ridiculous, but my body is zinging with energy. And desire. I wish Max was here to watch me. The thought adds a delicious edge to my already heightened need for him. I turn a shade of crimson I’m sure is risking a spontaneous fire. “We’re working through it.” _Hopefully, tonight will be a start to the next phase of that…_  
“Good. That’s good.” Laura’s worry doesn’t entirely leave, but she sounds like she’s letting go of a held breath. I do too. “I told Max this, but…I’m sorry for my part in the whole thing. Rich…he was drunk and I should’ve.”  
I cut her off, rubbing my upper arms as though I was comforting her with the action, “No, it wasn’t your fault, Laura. Not at all.” I take a deep breath, extracting courage from the movement of my hands to the inside of my thighs, just below the heat of my pussy. I lightly touch up and down there, my hips moving in tiny increments too. I choke back a moan. “In fact, you helped me. You kept Ri…you kept him from getting too handsy…” I gulp and close my eyes for a second while I pinch my inner thighs. “And I shouldn’t have let it get to that point anyway. So…please.” I stand taller, looking myself in the eye, clenching my fingers into the hollows at the sides of my hips. “Please, don’t blame yourself for anything. Okay?”  
She hesitantly accepts this, “Okay.” In the small pause, I move my hands to squeeze my hips, reliving Max’s touch there this morning. “Tracy feels really badly about everything too. Are you going to call her?”  
I stop with my hands clenching harder for a second. With a sigh, I let go and trace along the crease at the bottom of each butt cheek, at Max’s favorite spot to spank. Some of my anger rises with my reply. “No. She invited him, knowing it wasn’t a good idea and not what I wanted. Tracy made a choice, and so am I.” I don’t add that Max has forbidden a continued friendship with her. I wouldn’t want to be near Tracy even if he hadn’t. She’s been to the building a few times, but the doorman downstairs has turned her away on orders from Max. It’s been a relief for me not to have to deal with it before this.  
“Oh. Okay.” I hate that Laura’s upset and feeling in the middle, but she adds quietly before I can say anything else. “Do you mind if I tell her that you called me? That you’re doing okay…”  
I smile at my reflection. On impulse, I lift my knee and place my heel on the entry table, extending out my leg. The height has me open and all my unrequited desires shine with my exposed slickness. I run one finger along the seam of leg to pussy, daring to go as close as possible without disobeying. “That would be nice. I don’t want her worrying about me. I just want her to understand that what she did was a betrayal of our friendship and disrespectful to me and my marriage...” I lower my foot, running my hands up my sides, taking a cleansing breath before adding, “I don’t deserve friends like that.”  
“Of course. And I really do understand, Luce. I think Tracy does too…buried somewhere beneath her being pissed off that she hasn’t been given the opportunity to apologize to you.”  
I laugh softly at that. “Yeah. Bet it’s really pissing her off to not get her way.” Laura’s small laugh is confirmation enough. “But I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle. That’s not fair to you. So…” I pause, uncertain of what all I could do to make the situation easier for her. Realizing the only option is more uncomfortable honesty, I brush my hair back again. “...I’ll talk to Max, see about talking to Tracy to explain this myself. Okay?”  
“Okay.” I can’t tell if it’s just relief or understanding that adds some conviction to her voice. “You do sound stronger. I take it Max is over his jealousy…that things are back to normal between you two?”  
I laugh harder at that, placing one hand over my moving stomach and cupping the side of my red face with the other. “Well, as normal as things get around here.” I move my hands to squeeze my tits, wishing I could tweak my nipples like Max does, closing my eyes briefly to envision him licking them.  
“I know you aren’t coming to Romona’s tonight, but I’d love to see you soon…” She leaves it open-ended, like a question.  
“I’d love to see you too! Let me check with Max and I’ll set something up as soon as I can.” I watch my toes dance in the mirror, tapping my outer thighs with the jitters of waiting to get Laura’s reaction. I’d told her once about needing Max’s approval for any plans, but that was before she knew more about the nature of my marriage.  
“Cool. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. I hate to run, Luce, but I’m at the building already and I’ve gotta head in.”  
“Oh, okay. I’ll call or text.” We say quick good-byes. I give myself a final pat on both my shoulders with a wink to my reflection, breathing a huge sigh of relief at how well that went.  
Heading into the den, I start on the third chore for this morning. It has a deadline, and I have a feeling it’s going to take me all the time I have to get it right.  
_Diabolical sadist!_


	3. Chapter 3

**HIM**

All morning, I’ve forced my attention to stay mostly on a full schedule of client meetings. I’ve not called home or her cell, choosing to text Lucy instead to check on her progress with the list I left. _So far, so good._  
Imagining my wife, nude and waiting for me, has been harder than I thought it would be today. I’ve been tormenting my poor girl for a week. _And enjoying every minute of it._ But I have special plans for her tonight, and despite the number of times I’ve come this week, my balls ache to get home.  
Shifting in the backseat of the car, I quietly try to find a more comfortable position while scrolling the screen on my phone. As ordered, a half hour ago, Lucy sent me an email. _With ten minutes to spare. Such a good girl._ I resisted opening it until now. The quiet droning of city traffic is a dull background to the words jumping out at me. _Her words—shame, desire, fear, need_.  
I text that I’m on my way home, adding a command to leave a printed copy of the email on the entry table, right in front of her bent over face. _Picturing her like that…_  
I shift again, catching Jeff’s furtive glance at me in the rearview mirror. Putting my phone away, I decide to finally address the tension between us. Same as Lucy’s frustration, it’s been building for two weeks. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”  
“No. Sir.” The respectful term is delivered like acid to a litmus test, a big plop in the middle of our usual rapport. It’s clear it holds none of the normal deference to it.  
“You sure? This is your one chance, Jeff, to clear the air. That chip you’ve been carrying around is only going to get heavier…” I lower my gaze, letting him have a minute to get the clenching of his jaw muscles to loosen enough to answer me.  
“Lucy.” Her name hangs in the air for a moment while I study his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. He breathes deeply several times before he directs his eyes straight ahead, sitting taller in the driver’s seat. He clips his words out as fast as he does punches at the gym. “Is Mrs. Traeger well, Sir?”  
I cover a smile by scrubbing at the start of stubble around my mouth. “She is.” Silence fills the car, and I wait for Jeff’s gaze to briefly meet mine in the mirror again. “With the holidays coming up, I’ve been thinking we should arrange a nice dinner out. I know Lucy would love to meet your girl, Anna, and it would give me a chance to show my appreciation for all the hard work you do.” I wait for that to sink in, for another glance, before adding, “For our friendship.”  
I leave out that it will give Jeff a chance to see for himself that Lucy is fine. He’s been increasingly surly ever since the night we picked her up at Romona’s. He knows how things are with us. He’s been with me long enough to know how I am. I’ve even started to make strides in helping him to get control of himself, and his girlfriend, too. But he’s been silently voicing his disapproval of Lucy’s enforced isolation for the past two weeks. His concern for her is as irritating as it is reassuring.  
Jeff’s shoulders finally relax and his eyes flick in my direction in the mirror with less malice. He grins like he knows exactly what I’m up to. “It’ll have to be a very nice dinner out to justify the dress I’m sure Anna will insist I let her get.”  
I match his grin, relaxing too. “I’m sure Lucy will insist on nothing less. I’ll have her text you with some dates.”  
With his nod, the atmosphere in the car returns to normal quickly. The easy silence lets my thoughts drift back to my destination. I take out my phone, but only hold it tightly. I won’t tease myself with reading her email again. I’ll have her reciting it soon enough.  
Watching the blocks pass by my window, I frown seeing some of the stores have already put up holiday decorations, hoping to push the sales season earlier than normal. I’ve never liked the rush of this time of year, the need to do and buy, the drop in temperatures, the slush of ugly snow, the fake cheer everywhere.  
In the past, I’ve been a real hum-bug starting with Thanksgiving and ending sometime around the first glimpse of spring’s arrival. Probably a throwback to being a poor kid with no Dad to play Santa, no tree to decorate, no turkey to devour, no presents to rip open, no boots to keep out the cold. That all ended when Ron came into the picture, but that didn’t take away the sourness of the season for me. If anything, it made the contrast more poignant. I never took for granted all the luxuries; I never let myself forget how it felt to be without them.  
_Not the cheeriest frame of mind to have._  
At a stop light, I look on as a man and woman work to transform a storefront display, setting it up to look like a cozy living room ready for a holiday party. And for the first time, I get the allure. Because of Lucy. As the car starts to move again, I glance at my phone, picturing her waiting. My perfect present. Her words the best wrapping paper…

. . . . .

Walking in, finding Lucy exactly as she was this morning, as I had ordered… _Who needs Santa when there’s no better gift to come home to than this?_

In the mirror, her eyes follow my slow progress as I come to stand right behind her. She’s shaking. _God, I love her._


	4. Chapter 4

**HIM**

Pulling her hair back, twisting it gently to wrap around my fist, I place my other hand possessively on her hip. Her body shivers. Her lips part. There’s the sexiest glimpse of her tongue as her breathing speeds up. I gently push Lucy’s head down, pulling her to press my erection harder against her ass at the same time. “Read.”  
A tiny squeak escapes her lips, more of a gasp than anything else. Her face flames red, but she shakily starts to stutter through the email she sent me. I let the heat of her body, and words, wash over us. I’ve been fighting a smile all morning waiting for this. She tries to get through it quickly by reading faster. _Not gonna happen, little girl_.  
“Slow down.” Lucy pauses, her eyes bouncing up to my crooked grin. _Oh, yeah, I’m enjoying every minute of this, baby_. “Start over. And read nice…and slowly.” I nod down to the paper under her chin.  
Lucy tenses before taking in deeper breaths; I pat her hip, splaying my fingers wider before gripping her tightly again. When she starts over, her pace is steadier, the words all taking on greater meaning by being forced out of her exactly how I want. Impossibly, I’m harder.  
I close my eyes, listening to her innermost thoughts and emotions from the past week. That was her chore—to write out exactly what went on in her head during every painful and humiliating moment I’d put her through since midnight on last Wednesday. Lucy has been even more thorough with this assignment than I’d expected of her. _It’s a long email._  
If I should feel any twinge of guilt from listening to what I’ve put her through, I don’t. I haven’t. Anticipating this moment since I led her into the guest room, I’ve felt only excitement. And now that it’s here? Only a sense of…rightfulness. Like a balance is being restored.  
Looking down at the silky length of Lucy’s straight spine, the taught curve of her tight ass before me, the inviting split between her legs… _Maybe balance isn’t the right word? Maybe it’s more like a resetting of the clock_.  
Everything between us has happened so quickly. I know it’s been hard on her. I’ve been hard on her. I wouldn’t change a thing. But these past two weeks have proved to me that Lucy needs some changes.  
 _I only hope for her sake that she can accept them as quickly as she has everything else. I won’t accept anything less._  
As Lucy reaches the part about her feeling isolated in the guest room for that full day of her maintenance, her eyes spill over with tears. I jerk her head back up, causing her to choke on the next line, eyelids fluttering, gaze panicked and questioning up to my reflection. I twist my grin into a sneer. “No crying, little girl. I’ll let you know when I want your tears.”  
Her neck moves beautifully to swallow down a stifled sob. Two big drops of tears course down her cheeks as she lowers her eyes to the paper again, but I don’t count them as a sign of disobedience. No more follow, and her voice rasps a little with holding them back.  
Without a need for another interruption, she slowly finishes. When she’s said the last of it, about this morning—about her desires mixing with embarrassment and a wish for me to be there to watch while she innocently touched herself in a not-so-innocent situation I’d commanded—her eyes again rise to me. The gorgeous blue of them swims in unshed tears, and a look of such painful yearning takes over her expression. I know what Lucy wants, what she’s a long way off still from getting. I let my smile take on the edge I’ve been failing to hold back.  
Untangling my hand from her thick curls while releasing her hip, I step back. “Turn around and kneel.” Lucy’s quick to obey, dropping fluidly in front of me. All her thoughts and emotions are easy to read, unhidden as always in her mercurial expressions. Fear and uncertainty pop to the top of the pile of them. The fear, I like. It’s the uncertainty that adds a depth to the edge of my next command. “Take out my cock.” Holding back a hiss of pleasure with her light touches, I steel myself to get through this without failing her, us. “Hands behind your back and open your mouth.”  
She’s eager to comply, and I waste no time in entering Lucy’s parted lips. I don’t thrust all the way in, just keep my cock resting on her wiggling tongue, my pants-covered balls not quite touching her chin. Gently, I caress her cheek, down along her jaw, but I add more of that depth to my voice. “Relax, you’re going to be like this for a while.”  
I can’t help but smile as she tries to swallow on instinct, a reaction to that news. Lucy glances down to the opening of my pants before quickly bringing her eyes up to me again. _Good girl_.  
“Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking this last week, Lucy?” She tries to verbalize a yes, to nudge her head into a small nod without scraping her teeth against me. “No. No words, no sounds, no movements.” I gently brush her hair back behind her ear, willing myself to a calmness that will probably cost my balls to be blue by the time I’m finished with this. “You’re only a mouth and ears right now.”  
All the way to her chest, Lucy turns the brightest, prettiest, shade of red. Already drool is collecting and will soon spill over her lips, down her chin. I linger on watching her tits move as she gets her breathing under better control. Her spit will be decorating those tits soon enough too.  
I drop my hand to my side again, continuing by a force of will I’m not sure is healthy for my balls to not fuck her wet lips with my hardened cock. It’s easier to resist as I start in with the next part, my loosely thought-through speech. This is the only moment that I’ve been uncertain of. Uncertain of her reaction, of mine. “Two weeks ago, when I took my belt to you.” Her eyes always say so much and it’s a punch to my gut to not react to the guilt in them now. Lucky for me, a thin line of spit slides out of the corner of her mouth at my moment of hesitation. It’s all I need to stay hard, focused, to get through this, for us. “I took out my wrath at your disobedience. I let you have a taste of all the anger I’ve had to hold back before. That I’ve not shared with anyone else.”  
It’s like the shadow of that anger falls over her eyes with this confession. I take a deep breath and Lucy follows my example. Her tongue wiggles and more drool slips down to paint her. But my good girl stays in place, silent. “And by punishing you, by you taking it, I forgave you.” My beautiful Lucy fights the need to cry with her obvious relief.  
“But that took me to a dark place, little girl, one I don’t want to have to go to often with you.” The implied meaning is clear—I don’t regret what I did. That’s not what this is about. I’d do the same then, now, and in the future. But it’s hard for me to admit how tenuous my control was over my own actions and emotions when it came to my love for her. _I need her to understand…_  
The fear and uncertainty that had been leading the chase of all her racing emotions is displaced by a look I always love to see on her—guilt. Her eyes are infused with it, with her need to be cleansed of it. For a moment, I give in to our desires and plunge my fingers into her hair, pulling her mouth closer, my cock deeper, sinking into her wet warmth for a few gag-inducing thrusts.  
It’s hard, but I finally come to a stop, pulling my cock back to about the same depth as before, my pants brushing against her saliva-drenched chin now. Determination takes my voice to an unshakable sternness, “When it was time for your maintenance spanking last week and you were still bruised and marked…” I close my eyes, envisioning her as she was in the light filtering through the guest room windows that night. She tenses and I look down at her, massaging her scalp through her thick curls. Softly, I finish, “I wasn’t so sure which one of us was going to be hurt more if I took my belt to you then.”  
Her brows knit into a frown, doubt, confusion, and more of that damning uncertainty crossing her features. “You don’t think it hurts me to be that angry with you, to be reminded of all that?”  
The look of shame clouding Lucy’s face is a tinge of seductive pinkness. My cock throbs and twitches on her tongue. I breathe through the need to fuck her throat. Emotion gravels my words, a reprimand as much as an admission of any underlying weakness, “It does. And I don’t ever want to be that angry with you again.” A gurgle escapes her swallowing throat. By the look in her eyes, I assume it’s a form of promise, but that will have to come later. “Which means I’ve got to get you, and me, to a point beyond it…”  
My lips curl into a grin. I can’t help it. For all the fear and uncertainty built into this moment, for her and for me, I’m excited too. And I can feel the same energy vibrating off of Lucy. I thrust back into her throat, tickling her tonsils with an unrelenting pressure. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about this past week, little girl. The how of my plan for us.”  
Lucy’s eyes veil over with a lust for more, but not before I catch a glimpse of greater fear. I’ll have to deal with that soon enough.  
“How I could get you to that point of understanding what we both need. That’s what the last week has been about.” I smile evilly with how this statement underplays the struggle I know Lucy’s gone through, the restraint I’ve had to live through. Her email highlighted every difficulty she endured with her obeisance and deprivation. If the past seven days have been hard for me, I take some pleasure in knowing they’ve been hard for her too.  
Lucy’s eyes widen. I caress her head, holding her to me. “You told me your thoughts and feelings through everything, and I’m proud of you for being able to see yourself so clearly, for being so honest for me. But now it’s my turn to give you the same…” I tap her nose; the obscenity of her stretched mouth pressed against me and kept open by my cock makes me grin before I even pull my hand away. “To give you a blow-by-blow of what I’ve gone through too.”  
Pulling back to give her jaw a small break, I allow Lucy to breathe easier. Her eyes fill with tears as she gulps air around my makeshift gag. I think I swell more, if that’s possible. “When I make a promise to you, I’ll always keep it. That includes how I’ll punish you. I think you understand that clear enough now.” Her head moves up minutely, but she stops herself from fully nodding, frantically blinking instead. I pet her head more, soothing her.  
I look up into the mirror, taking in the back of Lucy on her knees and my own towering domination over her. It’s the perfect image for this. “But I also made a promise to take care of you, to keep you safe, and that meant that I had to rein in my rage while I was giving you the punishment you deserved. I had to hold myself back.” I pause again, shoving into her mouth, closing my eyes on my reflection at her small throat convulsions and sounds. I let myself have a moment of darkness, giving her a taste of that too.  
“That kind of control…it’s not easy, little girl.” I jerk my hips to drag my cock back so the tip alone presses down on her tongue. “It’s the same control it takes for you to submit like this.” Her eyes register a little understanding and a big dose of confusion.  
“For you to kneel on this hard floor, with your body cold and uncomfortable, with your jaw aching, your eyes burning, your throat throbbing, your stomach wrenching.” I demonstrate all of that with hard thrusts into the back of her throat. I let my pleasure coat my words, “Yeah…I get what this takes from you, Lucy...and that’s just the physical side of it, isn’t it, my good girl?” I go back to soothing her with gentle caresses to her head, brushing her hair through my fingers.  
“That doesn’t even start to touch on all of the thoughts and emotions that go along with it.” I tap her head, cradling the side in my palm. “What you wrote in that email…” I glance at the table behind her. “I could’ve written that for you.”  
Her frown of confusion is enough to make me smile. She’s dripping drool, with my cock barely inside her mouth, and she looks beautifully confused. “From the moment I got you up and moved you to the guest room, I’ve known what’s going on in your head, Lucy. Everyday I’ve denied you an orgasm and challenged you with a new way to obey me, I’ve known what you’re thinking.” I wait for her expression to settle on one of guilt again. Fisting her hair, I tug her head back some, invading her mouth more. “And I’ve not been entirely happy with any of it.”  
 _Damn. She’s beautiful like this._ Infused with a red glow to her cheeks, tears threatening, breathing fast to fight them off, Lucy melts into a state of pure submission. She’s held up into a kneeling position solely by my hand in her hair and my cock in her mouth as a reminder not to move.  
Shaking her head slightly, I growl out. “Could you say the same, little girl? That you’ve known exactly what I’m thinking for the past week?” Lucy cowers instead of attempting to answer, using her body to tremble out a clear no. “Of course not.” I let go of her hair, leaving the only contact between us to be my tip to her tongue. “Because you’ve been too focused on your own thoughts and feelings, haven’t you?” She gurgles another reply, most likely a confirmation by the look on her face.  
I run the back of my knuckles across her cheek, angling down to her jawline to cup her chin. The feel of her is a mix of hot and cold from her shame and spit. _She’s sexy as fuck like this._ “And that’s what we’re going to work on, Lucy. That’s what the last week of denial has been all about—yours and mine—getting us closer to understanding each other so we can avoid the need to rein ourselves in.”  
I plunge deeper into her throat, relishing her sounds and movements even as she tries to keep them to a minimum. “I understand that you feel vulnerable and wanted and scared and needy right now. I get that you’re unsure and uncertain but willing too. You’ll stay like this, on your knees with your mouth open, for as long as I tell you to because you desperately want to prove your loyalty and love to me too, to make up for your mistake. And you’ll take any chance I give you to do that, won’t you, baby?” She blinks hard and a tear escapes, but I think it’s from keeping her eyes glued to mine through my speech more than a release of her own emotions. Her assent is clear without any sound or movement.  
Softening my voice, I reassure her. “And I’ll give you that chance, little girl. Because this isn’t about punishing you more. I forgave you. We’re finished with that.” I punctuate my words with small thrusts. “This is about new lessons, new rules. And you’re going to follow all of them starting right now, right here.”  
Lucy holds back a sob and her need to answer me. I reward her with more thrusts, deeper. To continue with the finale of my speech, though, I have to slow down. I’m too close to wanting to come and it’s not time for that. Not yet.  
“From now on, when I give you a maintenance spanking, you’re going to have a new chore afterwards. You’re going to write out thoughts and feelings just like you did today, but they won’t be your own. They’ll be mine.” More of that confusion enters her gaze. “You’re going to tell me what you think I was thinking and feeling through your punishment, the week after, and the maintenance spanking.”  
A little understanding pushes her confusion into a new level of uncertainty. A crooked grin adds emphasis to my tone. “You won’t be punished more for getting any of it wrong, but you won’t be rewarded either. For every thought or feeling you get right, you’ll get to come. Get it wrong…you won’t. For a week.”  
I can’t help but laugh at the mix of everything showing at once on Lucy’s face—comprehension, desperation, exasperation, anticipation, frustration. Her eyes narrow as my laughter pushes my cock in and out. “You better wipe that look off your face, little girl, because I do know exactly what thoughts are behind it.”  
At that, I give in, closing my eyes and pumping her mouth how I want. Hard, deep, fast. Every squeeze of her throat, gurgle of her choking, rhythm of her tongue, scrape of her teeth, slide of her saliva has me harder and thrusting faster. A loud moan, more a shot-out growl, forces past my lips as I force myself deeper in her throat, shooting my come straight down into her.  
Quickly, I take a step back, almost a stagger from reeling with the release. Lucy coughs and sputters, swallowing repeatedly, but her arms stay back, her knees stay spread. I give her a few moments to gain control of her breathing and retching.  
When she looks up at me, with her hair sticking to her tits in places drenched with saliva, with her face streaked from tears, her eyes bright with them, I put out my hand to help her stand up. Lucy wobbles and I press her to my chest. “Shhh. I’ve got you, baby.”  
She dissolves into tears, shaking us both with them. I rest my chin on the top of her head, watching her body move in the mirror. Looking up into my reflection, I wonder if Lucy will ever be able to fully understand what I think and feel in moments like this. _I hope so…I’m counting on it._  
“Go wash up. I’ll get lunch ready for us.” I pat her butt with a good smack to send her on the way to our bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome!
> 
> I'm going to continue working on this Novella and will publish the chapters here as I get to them. If you are interested in reading more from this series, the completed books are available on Amazon and Smashwords. I'm also willing to email the first book (True Nature) to anyone who reaches out to me via my website email: willow@willowmadisonbooks.com. Alternatively ('cuz I do like alternative choices ;), you can sign up to be included in my update emails on my website; just mention AO3 on the form and your interest in receiving the freebie book.
> 
> Happy reading! ~W

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome! 
> 
> I'm going to continue working on this Novella and will publish the chapters here as I get to them. 
> 
> If you're interested in reading more from the True series, the completed books are available on Amazon and Smashwords. I'm also willing to email the first book (True Nature) to anyone who reaches out to me via my website email: willow@willowmadisonbooks.com. Alternatively ('cuz I do like alternative choices ;), you can sign up to be included in my newsletter emails on my website; just mention AO3 on the form and your interest in receiving the freebie book. And, of course, you can always comment here with your interest as well. 
> 
> Happy reading! ~W


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